


Just As Sure As None At All

by nohohank



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Crowley Asks Questions, Crying, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Quote: You go too fast for me Crowley (Good Omens), Religious Imagery & Symbolism, probably lots of incorrect astrology talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-05 23:54:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20281966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nohohank/pseuds/nohohank
Summary: Going 100 mph down a long road that seems to never end after the sun had fallen victim to the hills can mean many things.Two of which are, ‘I’m ready for death’ and ‘I’m ready to feel alive again’.OrCrowley thinks too much and spirals into an Episode™





	Just As Sure As None At All

**Author's Note:**

> uuuhhhhh this is the first time i've written and posted a fic in YEARS and this wasnt beta read either so :( BUT! im pretty okay with the finished product of this fic so here, fetch.

Going 100 mph down a long road that seems to never end after the sun had fallen victim to the hills can mean many things.

Two of which are, _‘I’m ready for death’_ and _‘I’m ready to feel alive again’._

Crowley’s situation was different. If he had crashed his beloved car he wouldn’t so much as died as he would have just discorporated.

Feeling alive was something Crowley hadn’t felt in years. Centuries. Millenium, even. The closest he’d ever gotten to feeling alive was when he randomly stumbled onto the same path as an angel he grew to love thousands of years ago. He would surely love to feel alive. But not here. Not now.

Just hours before, Crowley had sat in his car in Soho, London with Aziraphale. In his hand was a thermos filled with holy water. The holiest, in fact. His finger caressed said thermos after Aziraphale left the car and he gave it a nice, long look before directing his gaze on to the now empty seat next to him. It was painful, holding what wouldn’t just discorporate him but destroy him completely after being told he ‘goes too fast’.

Crowley knew Aziraphale was right in every way. Be it a literal sense with the way he drove his car. Or a metaphorical sense that meant ‘we need to slow down, you and I’. 

The whole situation wouldn’t have bothered him as much if he didn’t have the power of holding a thermos of holy water. The question, “What if I?” raced through his head almost as fast as the Bentley. And they both roared just as loud, just one was more treacherous than the other.

Without blinking an eye, Crowley slammed on the brakes. It was an empty road so he didn’t worry about anyone behind him crashing or any passerby becoming distracted or concerned. He just sat, in the dark, clutching the wheel with such force that he was convinced it would snap beneath his grip at any moment. 

Then it hit him. It started with a low rumble that could put the fear of God into anyone’s hearts and then it tore right through and destroyed anything in it’s way just like the world’s deadliest earthquake. Crowley couldn’t tell if the tears came from anger, sadness, disgust or some unknown emotion he was cursed with. All he knew was that it _hurt like hell._

With a deep inhale of breath that felt more like sharp ice piercing his throat, he reached for the handle of the door and fell out onto the ground. His glasses fell to the pavement next to him and the sound was both drowned out and deafening at the same time and he didn’t bother with wondering how that was possible. 

Fingers dug into grass. Mud made way under fingernails. Rocks scraped skin. Mouth fell open. Sobs escaped. Body shook. Questions were formed.

“Are you there?” Crowley gasped out breathlessly. The words were barely audible and that time he bothered with wondering if it was just him who couldn’t hear or if anyone near heard clearly. But he knew no one was near. _‘Stop wondering’_ he thought. 

“Are you there?!” He asked again, but this time the words ripped through his throat and he shook from just the strength of them. 

“Are you listening to me right now? Are you awake?” Crowley wept. His body hit the ground with a thud and his face buried into the rich mud that, in this time of night, looked silver and blue instead of brown. 

“Allow me to ask; do you enjoy what you’ve done?” He said, his words sluggish but with such anguish. 

Crowley made his way to his feet, slipping multiple times in the process, and walked down the hill he just laid upon. There was a small patch of trees there, but beyond the trees was an open field and, oh, how the stars shined. ‘I could stay here forever’ he thought. 

Knees hit the ground, much softer than any other time he’d fallen, and his eyes were locked with the sky. 

A fun thing about demonic miracles, Crowley thought, was that if you wanted to see something, you could see it. And that’s just what Crowley decided to do in this moment, was to see something, anything, that could give him hope. 

With his eyes still on the sky ahead, never once blinking, he rearranged the stars just for him to see. The field of which he sat in changed from blue to orange to slightly lighter orange thanks to the galaxy he played with.

Then he found it. The stars smiled down at him and he couldn’t tell if it was a joke or if he could trust them. He so badly wanted to trust them. 

He stared at the four stars, shaped like a cross. Gacrux, Acrux, Mimosa, Crucis.

“I could live there.” Crowley whispered. But saying those words didn’t feel right. As he stared at Acrux, the brightest of the stars in the Southern Cross, he wondered if Aziraphale ever thought about living amongst the stars. That thought alone stabbed right through his chest and left him blinded for a second or two, and the sky was back to normal. 

The twinkle from the stars died down, but there was a twinkle that settled to his right, and he knew an angel stood close. Time seemed to stand still. Crowley acknowledged the presence next to him, and the angel did the same. Silence… Deep breath.

“What is closest to the Southern Cross?” Crowley asked softly. It was such a silent night. Not even the wind made noise, but the trees sang a soft song that left a melody stuck in Crowley’s head for a bit. 

The angel stepped closer but he knew where to draw the line. Just a few feet away. Six, in fact. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped once Crowley slowly turned his head his way.

The demon hadn’t dared to look up. His eyes followed the grass that rested upon his knees and went down the tiny trail that led to the shoes that were planted six feet away. 

A deep breath and, “Alpha centauri. Beta centauri, I believe.” Aziraphale answered. All Crowley could do was nod ever so slowly in response. The two seemed to enjoy the silent company for a bit. But the more they go without saying anything, the louder Crowley’s thoughts had become. 

“Is this what They wanted?” Crowley said. Aziraphale, upon hearing that question, noticed just how lifeless Crowley’s eyes were in that moment. If it had been any other day when they’d seen each other, Aziraphale would note how much emotion was hidden in those piercing, yellow-slitted eyes. But there was nothing now. 

“I-” Aziraphale started, but Crowley finally forced himself to look up into the Angel’s eyes and it cut him short of what he tried to say for a few seconds.

“It’s a fallen world, Crowley.” Aziraphale responded. A hint of emotion shone through his eyes then, but Aziraphale couldn’t place what it was. 

“And was this ‘fallen world’ God’s plan?” Crowley asked. 

“I’m- I’m sure The Almighty had a plan, and still does-” Aziraphale struggled with his words and his hands came together anxiously. “They have a plan for everyone. It’s just-”

Crowley cocked his head to the side and an eyebrow raised up. Aziraphale knew Crowley was judging him for his word choice, so he stopped speaking.

All of a sudden Crowley was aware of just how much his legs had become wet from the mud he sat in and his face itched from what had dried onto his face and hair from earlier and noticed just how clean the Angel was before him. _‘He thinks I’m pathetic, doesn’t he?’_ Crowley thought to himself, and the thought was violent. That was all it took before the force from earlier came back. This time he could pinpoint just what emotion the tears came from.

Aziraphale had been the only person to ever see Crowley cry.

Falling forward, Crowley gripped onto the grass near Aziraphale’s shoes for what he wanted to say was for support, but he knew he just wanted to be closer to him. The sobs that drove through him were more brutal than the last and he knew his eyes were one of an abomination. The only words he could muster up were, “It’s so cruel.”

It was an endless stream of tears that only worsened when he felt a hand on his back. Another hand. Then the sound of weight against the grass. His body was lifted from his spot and was pulled close into Aziraphale’s embrace and for a moment he wanted to fight it. For a moment, he wanted to run away. Run as far as he could. To that star Aziraphale mentioned earlier. But he made a temporary home in Aziraphale’s arms and, just like a home should make someone feel, he felt safe.  
Crowley made a mental note to apologize about staining Aziraphale’s coat with tears, spit and snot but in that moment he only cared about the fingers that carded into his hair to soothe him. Crowley would have been completely soothed had it not been for him lifting his head up to look into the bright blue eyes that the moonlight complemented with kisses and asked, “Did I deserve to fall?’ 

Aziraphale didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to. He just pulled Crowley impossibly closer to him. That question made Aziraphale question everything, but as he’s learned, It’s not good to ask questions apparently. So he stayed silent, in fear of what it would bring. And he felt guilty.

Aziraphale leaned back slightly, kept his hands on Crowley’s shoulders and tried to get a better look at him. Crowley only moved closer and grabbed onto his jacket firmly. 

“Please… Stay for a while longer.” Crowley pleaded softly. Their eyes met and Aziraphale’s heart broke from the sight of the demon in front of him.

Crowley had wished ‘a little longer’ meant at least a decade. To be in Aziraphale’s arms was all he hoped for. The warmth of him was beyond comforting and the strength of his arms around him made him feel safe from both Heaven and Hell. ‘A little longer’ actually meant for about an hour.

Crowley’s face was no longer blotchy and mottled. His eyelashes were no longer heavy nor brimmed with burning tears and his chin no longer quivered. It was then when he remembered he noted to apologize for staining Aziraphale’s jacket so he looked up into those blue eyes again. The sun had started to come up then, and the blue moonlight shifted to a soft sunny pink.

\---

Aziraphale made sure Crowley made it back to Soho as safely as possible. He was hesitant to leave. They both were. But they parted ways nonetheless. 

Crowley walked into his flat. It was dark and empty as usual, but the sun peeked through the window and he took a deep breath. His footsteps echoed softly as he slowly made his way into the room. He leaned against the wall near his window for a while, looking out at the people below. At the buildings ahead. At the sky above.

It was a fallen world. But a fallen world that just needed some time for building. He thought to himself, _‘I feel alive with him.’_

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr [@azirasphales](azirasphales.tumblr.com) mwah mwah


End file.
